A Lesson in Natural Painkillers
by thebaddestwolf
Summary: Rose is injured and the Doctor knows just what remedy will ease her pain. Major PWP.


***Author's Note: I'm currently recovering from an injury and am taking my frustration out on Ten and Rose. I don't think they're minding it very much, though. See also: Speechless.***

Rose put the book down on her lap and cradled her arm against her chest. The gash on her hand was healing nicely - much faster than it would have if the Doctor hadn't applied that 37th-century ointment a few minutes after the alien had struck her with its spiked tail - but the injury still twinged every so often. The Doctor told her that was the miracle of the ointment, healing ligaments and tissue that otherwise would have required surgery to repair, but the pain was distracting and irritable in a time when she was otherwise so happy.

She felt him shift under her heels, which were propped on his thigh as they both sat on the couch in the TARDIS library, and lifted her eyes to meet his gaze. His hand tightened on her ankle.

"It's hurting again," he said, more statement than question.

"Yes, but it'll pass. It's better when I elevate it."

He didn't look convinced. Placing a bookmark in his novel and gently lifting her feet off of him, the Doctor stood and left the room. Minutes later he was back with two capsules and a glass of sparkling elderflower juice - her favorite. Rose smiled.

"Really, I'm fine. I'll take the juice though."

"Well, Rose, I'm not fine. If you're in pain, I'm not fine. And I'm particularly not fine if you're in pain because of a mess I got you into in the first place," he said, sitting down next to her hip and placing his free hand on her waist. "These won't alter your consciousness they just... make everything a bit fuzzy around the edges."

She rolled her eyes at the pouty look on his face - one she could never say no to - and swallowed the pills with a swig of the juice, carbonated bubbles dancing down the back of her throat. He smiled and kissed her forehead.

"Happy?" she asked, lightly patting his face.

"Getting there." He stood and stepped back, bending down to pull on Rose's ankles so that she was lying flat on the plush couch. Then he grabbed two spare pillows, one to go under her head, one to prop up her injured arm.

Rose smiled as his attentions as she felt the effects of the painkillers begin to wash over her. They had a calming effect, smoothing all of her nerves and worries until they seemed inconsequential, wrinkles that could be eased out of the fabric of her life. The throbbing in her hand began to dull and she felt her body sinking into the couch, becoming one with the soft cushions.

Lips descended to the most sensitive spot on her neck and she tilted her head to see where they came from. The Doctor was kneeling beside the couch, planting slow kisses below her jaw, hand caressing the skin just under her t-shirt.

"Mm, what are you doing?"

"Just calling on the human body's natural painkiller," he said into her skin. "Close your eyes."

This sounded like a great suggestion, especially because there now seemed to be two bookcases behind the Doctor when there used to be one. Rose let her eyes fall shut and continued to sink into the couch, only existing where he touched.

His tongue lapped at he neck, occasionally sucking gently, and his hand slowly eased her shirt up, higher and higher. Rose thought of the first time he touched her like this, months ago now, when neither of them could ignore their feelings any longer and they had to have every bit of each other all at once. Of course, there was nothing slow or gentle that first time - all biting, and tugging, and tearing fabrics.

She sighed at the memory, and at the sensation of his mouth moving to cover her nipple. His tongue circled its outskirts, achingly slow, before flattening against the hardening peak.

He sucked and she thought of the night they were hiding in a space station loading bay, waiting for the guards to give up looking for them, when the Doctor decided he needed her right then. She was in a dress - easy access to the critical bits - but no, that wouldn't do, he needed all of her. She was sure the guards would hear the zipper as he yanked it down her back, pushing the dress of her shoulders and moving her bra aside, taking her breast in his mouth.

Rose smiled, glad she didn't wear a bra today - it was too painful to twist her arm in the way needed to put it on and, besides, she liked the look he got when he realized she was bare beneath her shirt.

She whined when his mouth left her skin and he chuckled, hands untying the string of her pajama bottoms and pulling the soft fabric down and off. His fingers tickled the inside of her left knee as he nudged it to the side so that her leg dangled off the edge of the couch. Lips followed fingers, licking and sucking, slowly inching higher.

Her mind went back to the day they were thrown in a jail cell on a planet where the sky glowed a muted green. Only Rose had been put in restraints, deemed aggressive as she shouted at the soldiers, and her arms were chained above her head. The Doctor, not one to let the opportunity to tease her pass him by, tormented her body, lapping at her skin until she nearly cried with frustration, wetness trickling down her thigh.

"You better not be teasing me," Rose purred from the couch, tangling her good hand in his hair and tugging a warning.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he said at the apex of her thigh, breath tickling her knickers. He licked along her through the lacy fabric and she arched up, moaning, breaking from the couch that she was beginning to consider part of her body. "Shh, relax," he said, and did it again, eliciting the same response.

If she could string a sentence together, Rose would have reminded him of the time in her mum's flat when he was the one who couldn't be quiet. When she knelt before him, some late-night lottery show playing on the telly behind her, and scratched her nails up his thighs until he twitched, hard against his stomach. She would refresh his memory about how he buried his fingers in her hair to ease her mouth down further, until the head of his cock brushed against her tonsils. She's sure he'd recall the way he loudly moaned _fuck, Rose_ when she swallowed around him.

He was pulling her pants off now, thank god, and ran his hands up the insides of both her thighs as he eased himself down onto the couch, upper body nestled between her legs. He paused and she knew he was breathing her in, reveling in the scent of her.

"It's always all for you, you know that right?" she said, suddenly needing to make sure he knew that since the day she met him she'd never thought of anyone else in this way, regardless of the strays she brought on board.

"I know," he said, kissing her hipbone. He ran his tongue lightly along her slit and a soft sound vibrated from the back of her throat, head pushing into the pillow below her.

_The time she grew frustrated waiting for him, tinkering the day away in the console room, and she touched herself in the shower, only to be joined by him five minutes later. "I could smell you down the hall," he said, turning her against the tiled wall._

His tongue darted inside her, once, twice, three times, then delved deeper, his forearm strong against her stomach to still the movements of her hips.

_The time she convinced him to go dancing in a 23rd century nightclub, grinding against him mercilessly on the dance floor until he dragged her to the alley out back, fucking her against the wall as the bricks scratched jagged lines into her bum._

He withdrew his tongue and dragged it upward, gliding over her clit as he slid a finger into her. Rose moaned, hand clutching at his hair again, as he curled the finger inside her and his tongue set up a slow rhythm.

_The time she woke him up with her mouth on him, head bobbing beneath the sheets. "You kept poking my back with this so I thought I'd fix the problem," she'd said cheekily, before returning to her task._

The Doctor's tongue picked up speed, moving in patterns she couldn't predict. Rose couldn't stop whimpering now, couldn't stop the bucking of her hips.

_All the times he came for her; moaning or grunting; on her stomach, on her tongue, or inside her. All the times she came for him; slow encompassing orgasms or surprise sudden climaxes; silent, or moaning, or gasping his name, or swearing torrents of curses as he moved inside her._

Today it started in her toes. She could feel it building there, working its way up, hovering below his mouth before spreading upwards. Rose's mouth fell open as she felt it building, silently welcoming it, imploring it to stay a while, make itself at home.

His tongue sped up and she felt the waves begin, curling her toes, flexing her fingers. He moaned against her and it grew, whitecaps beginning to form at the top of the surf. She gasped his name and he moved in earnest, fingers thrusting, lips sucking as his tongue continued its ministrations.

The wave crashed and she was inside it, tumbling with it, losing all sense of gravity under the water. She assumed she yelled out, she must have, but all she could hear was the blood pumping in her ears, the sounds he was making against her skin.

Finally it subsided and she was floating, just bobbing there in the peaceful sea he had created for her. She felt him climbing up her body, squeezing himself in the space between her and the back of the couch.

Rose turned to him and his lips were there. She massaged his tongue with hers by way of thanks, tasting herself on him. She smiled against him, eyes still closed. He stroked her hair.

"Feeling better then?"

"You could say that." She felt him hard against her hip and vowed to return the favor soon. That is, if she could ever bring herself to move from this lovely couch.

"You know Rose, when I was reading before, I got a nasty paper cut."

"You don't say..."

"I was just turning the page and BAM - the book turned on me. It stings like hell." By the muffled way he said that last bit Rose could tell the offended digit was in his mouth. She smiled.

"Well, you're in luck because I happen to know this really effective natural painkiller," she said, finally opening her eyes. His hair was gloriously disheveled from her tugging hand. "The only problem is, I'm never leaving this couch again."

"I don't think that will be a problem," he said smiling, bringing his lips down to hers once more.


End file.
